A Last Fire Will Rise
by Khaleesi Inara
Summary: Delilah Morgan led an ordinary teenage life filled with uncertainty and parents who didn't seem to care. After an act of self-defense that led to obsession, she learns exactly why Santa Carla is the murder capital of the world.
1. Chapter 1

**Lost Boys belongs to Warner Bros. and their affiliates, Janice Fischer, James Jeremias, Jeffrey Boam, and Joel Schumacher. I make no money or other forms of profit from this endeavor. As for any original content: Any likeness, similarities, and resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, places, and events are unintentional and purely coincidental.**

**This fic is unbeta'd. If anyone would like to volunteer to beta this fic, feel free to contact me via PM on **

At night the ocean looked like an endless black abyss. The pitch darkness went on forever with no end in sight. The bright lights from the boardwalk were the only illumination on the warm moonless night. The soft hum of the lights mixed in with the chatter of the people and carnival music making a lulling white noise, only broken through by the occasional scream from a roller coaster passenger.

Delilah Morgan stared into the empty black sea feeling a sort of kindred empathy. The dark emptiness looked like how she felt inside. She should be happy and ecstatic. It was her birthday after all. But all she felt was a void that all the happy birthdays', well wishes, and presents couldn't fill; probably because everyone remembered but her parents. This was not the fun shenanigans or teen drama of the movie Sixteen Candles. Delilah didn't have any brothers or sisters, so no sibling wedding could be blamed for their forgetfulness. It was a cold hard truth that her parents didn't care enough to remember. Her father was a corporate lawyer the next town over, Buena Flores, and her mother a housewife. They lived in a perfect little town, the perfect little community, and had the perfect little life to the outside world. They didn't see the pills and booze her mother drank to stave off the boredom of being a suburban housewife with no small child to keep her company. They didn't see the father who worked long hours and ignored his wife's growing dependence on narcotics or his growing daughter; apparently after hitting puberty, children stop being cute and useful to get ahead in the corporate world. Her father no longer invited her to his work to see how all the lawyers fight and yell, then get paid for doing it. The only time her father ever really talked to her was to make sure she was dressed appropriately for whatever function his office was having and he needed the façade of a caring loving family to attend. Something had grown cold and distant in her father that caused him to care more about his job than the welfare of his family.

Delilah supposed she ought to grateful in the long run. She had a really nice house, all the clothes she could ever want, and her parents let her do whatever she wanted. More because her father wasn't around and her mother was usually too incoherent to realize what she was up to. But it was hard to be grateful when what you truly wanted, needed, was to know she was safe and secure in her own house; that her parents loved her no matter what. She wasn't so sure if she was even wanted or was worth more or less as the designer furniture that stood impeccably in their house.

So on her 17th birthday she was in the murder capital of the world instead of with her family. She doubted she would be missed. Her father probably wouldn't come home till the middle of the night if at all as sometimes he would take to sleeping at the office. Her mother was probably already passed out from the booze and Xanax. Supposedly her mother suffered from anxiety.

"Yeah right." Delilah softly scoffed. "Anxious about being lucid."

Lately she had been testing her parents. Coming home later and later; being more careless to hide the stench of booze and weed on her clothes. Still, the more obvious she made her illicit activities the more her parents didn't notice. She thought she'd be ecstatic at the revelation. She was practically getting away with murder and they said nothing; they did nothing to punish her. It was a teenager's wet dream…so she thought. The thrill and enjoyment of having no rules wore off quickly in the face of indifference. She didn't know the name of the feelings she had whenever she got away with doing something she knew others would get in trouble for. She was happy but…wasn't. It was just another thing that made the emptiness inside her grow.

"East End boys and West End girls!" a loud cheerful voice sung out of tune behind her, knocking her out of her melancholy reverie and a sudden embrace from behind startled her.

Delilah turned to see her best friend, Valerie, decked out in an awesome newly studded denim jacket. Her strawberry blond hair ratted out and teased high; as was the style of the day. Her jeans torn at the knees and cut off fingerless gloves completed her outfit. She looked like she belonged on MTV in a Whitesnake video.

Delilah was always a bit jealous of the super stylish Val. She was never allowed to do up her hair so it remained pin straight as per her school code. She was also never allowed to buy any fashionable clothes that "looked like a homeless vagrant whore wore them beforehand" as her father eloquently put it. He didn't understand teenage fashion and unfortunately her clothes were one part of her life her father interjected on. He couldn't have his "little girl" dress in anything but the preppy beige skirts and crisp polos in their ultra conservative neighborhood. The aforementioned outfit was what she was wearing at the moment, and she suddenly felt insecure about her plain boring dress compared to her very fashionable friend.

She couldn't be sad long because Val was always a good time. Her friend didn't disappoint when Val produced a joint and a fifth of scotch. Delilah took both with glee and hit the joint first. She took a nice long drag and let it sit in her lungs for a few seconds. She already felt the heady buzz that came with really good weed. Val wasn't nearly as well off as Delilah's family but she somehow managed to get the best stuff. Before she exhaled she took a swig of the scotch. The stuff tasted awful and it burned all the way down her throat but thanks to not breathing in, the weed took care of most of the sharp woody taste. After her shot she slowly let out the smoke and relaxed in her drug induced haze. Val looked on with admiration at her friend's ability to smoke and drink at the same time. It was a small useless talent but Delilah reveled in her friend's esteem. While she couldn't dress as cool as Val, at least Delilah drank and toked like a champ.

Delilah courteously handed back the scotch but kept the joint. She wasn't much of a drinker since she thought alcohol tasted like death but weed was her drug of choice. She loved the smell and taste of cannabis, everything about it seemed to delight her senses. It dulled everything from the noise of the carnival to the pain of her family's apathy. The good feeling felt like it could last forever and she hoped the rest of the summer would last as long. Summer was freedom. She didn't have to be at school hearing teachers' talk on and on about things they've never seen or experienced but felt it was of the utmost of importance to simply know about. She didn't have to be at home watching her mother waste away, drowning in alcohol and prescription pills at night. She could hang with Val all day and night; never really have to think of home unless she felt she outstayed her welcome at Val's place. This usually ended up being three days, a week at most. Even the best of friends needed their space and Delilah was usually happy to be back in her own room even if it meant an empty house or her mother going on and on about how she could have been an actress or a singer. Delilah hated when her mother would go on those diatribes. They always left her feeling unwanted and a burden. She hated feeling like her parent's lives would have been so much better if she hadn't been born. It created that empty dark feeling that left her angry and wanting to lash out. She could never bring herself to yell at her mother though. To tell her it wasn't true, that she wasn't the reason her mother never became more than a housewife. But the prickling doubt that clung to her like wet cellophane, wrapping around her, suffocating till it was all that she knew, always reared its ugly head. Telling her it was her fault. If she wasn't around then her mother could have done whatever she wanted instead of looking after her; that her mother and father would be a lot happier if they didn't have to deal with her or pay for all the things Delilah needed. The guilt of knowing how much she cost her parents always kept her silent and in line.

She decided to look on the bright side of things. She was young, pretty, had a joint and some booze. Life was good at that very moment and she was going to soak it all in. She might have to come crashing back down to reality but she wasn't going to go willingly.

School started that Monday so she was going to enjoy the last bit of summer as much as she could. It was going to be a hell of a weekend and she wouldn't be surprised if she showed up to the first day of school slightly hung-over. Good thing for Delilah, sunglasses were in style and teachers normally looked over the accessory; especially when she told them they were prescription. It wasn't true but she was Delilah Morgan: Straight A, if not a little hellacious, student with the lawyer for a father. It was a combination that made the faculty more or less leave her alone. Most of the faculty at least.

She decided that she was done being stingy with the weed and passed it back to Val. Her friend happily took the joint and inhaled a nice long drag. Both girls were giggling at nothing in particular and couldn't stop. Delilah reached into her small Culture Club wrist clutch to give Val money for the drugs and liquor.

Val saw what her friend was doing and lightly tapped her friend's wrist in a dismissive manner.

"Don't worry about it Senorita. It's your birthday!"

They both dissolved into giggles again and got strange looks from the passing boardwalk patrons. Delilah instinctively looked a little ashamed she was causing such a scene but Val quickly gave them the finger basically telling them to "Fuck off; we're having a great time. Deal with it."

Delilah laughed heartily at her bold friend; she hoped one day she'd be as confident.

"So, Chica. How did Senior Orientation go?"

"It was bullshit, like I'm sure the rest of the year will be. I pass everything with A's but they're giving me shit about all the times I skipped. They're actually trying to make me go to fuckin' after school classes just because I 'Don't have the required amount of school days according to state mandates' or some shit like that. I mean it was last fuckin' year. Give me a break. I think the principal has it out for me. I don't see why it fucking matters if I pass all the tests and put in all the homework. I don't fucking need to sit in a boring ass class listening to boring ass teachers lecture right out of the book. I can fuckin' read and pass the classes. Sometimes I wish I could just take one of Mr. Haim's stupid pens from his stupid pocket protector and just stab him right in his stupid fat neck."

Delilah said the last part with a dark expression that Val had never seen on her friend and with such conviction she was sure Delilah would go through with it if she were so inclined. The heady buzz didn't let her worry about her friend; it made Delilah seem funny and not threatening at all. And really, how threatening could a five foot two girl in a pink polo be?

"Damn, girl. Got some dark thoughts huh?"

Delilah snapped out of her macabre fantasy of seeing her high school principal bleed out at her feet and back to the Santa Carla boardwalk. She smiled a megawatt smile and acted as if she didn't threaten bodily harm to someone.

Delilah gave a small laugh and a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "You know how school and teachers are. We'd all kill them if given half a chance."

Val nodded her agreement as she has also felt like she could kill her teachers. Not seriously of course but it was a fantasy that all school kids shared from time to time; especially in the hell hole known as Santa Carla High. Val could only imagine how stifling a rich private magnet school would be like the one Delilah attended.

"Yeah, fuck 'em. School is days away; we're two young and gorgeous females out on the board walk. Let's have some fun!"

Delilah laughed at her friend's antics. They were very much alike, more than anyone would know. They didn't look anything alike but they were kindred spirits; born to parents who didn't care for them. Delilah might have wealth but it was her parent's wealth, or more accurately, her father's wealth. He never failed to mention all the hard work he put in and all he'd sacrificed to get them the nice things they enjoyed. Val's parents were both raging mean drunks who cared more about their own silly little lives than the needs of their daughter. Neither set of parents cared enough to set any ground rules or care whether they came or went. So they were always left out and about, more or less fending for themselves.

It was ok though. They had each other and they were their own family. Whatever they still needed was filled with booze and weed.

All the light and color danced before Delilah's eyes and she felt like a child again, where everything was perfect. Her mother and father cared for her and took her places. They held her hand as they walked the boardwalk, eating cotton candy and holding her hand. They had all loved each other and she wondered where it went.

But now the boardwalk was a dark and sinister place. Even in her high, Delilah could feel the vibe coming off the tourist attraction; she couldn't place her finger on it but she might even call the place evil. She wasn't sure why but she could feel it in her bones. Santa Carla was the murder capitol of the world but one wouldn't know by just looking at it. It was an ocean tourist town just like Ocean City, Maryland or Sea Side Heights, New Jersey. The pier was filled with people laughing, screaming, all having a good time. The evil could not be seen, only felt. At least only Delilah could feel it.

The friends made their way through the boardwalk, enjoying its many offerings. The weed gave them the munchies so they feasted on cotton candy and hot dogs. They made silly faces in the photo booth to commemorate the joyous occasion.

Eventually they made their way to the center of the boardwalk; to one of the oldest and still working attractions.

Delilah enjoyed the bright colorful carousel, the world finally spinning in time with hers. Everything swirled and twirled to cheerful music. Everyone was having a great time and everything seemed perfect. The two friends didn't seem out of place or obnoxious laughing as they did. The other riders couldn't tell the difference between two girls who were high off weed or high off the enjoyment of the ride.

The carefree feeling ended suddenly.

The hairs on Delilah's neck stood at attention and it shook her out of her high. It was a sudden sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach and just underneath her skin that told her something wasn't right. She had no idea what it meant but she knew it wasn't good. She looked around the carousel and nothing seemed out of order.

But then _**they**_ came into her line of vision. She would never forget the first time she ever saw them: Four males; all different but one tight knit group. There was an obvious camaraderie about them and Delilah could tell they were close, each very special and gorgeous in their own way.

There was the shortest one in the group; she noticed him first with his generously patched jacket with a high collar. He had amazing high cheek bones and piercing eyes. His curly blonde hair gave an initial impression of a cherub but his eyes said something completely different. They offered danger and excitement. He was innocence and sin wrapped in a deliciously taut package.

Then there was one with the long blonde hair. He seemed to be the really wild one of the group. His smile was as feral as his hair and he looked like all he wanted was a good time. A gold earring twinkled under the light as it moved with him under the brilliant carousel lights. With his tight white pants, he reminded her of David Coverdale and he could probably get girls just as easily as the Whitesnake front man. He was bouncing in place; it seemed as if he couldn't keep still. Almost like an energetic puppy. There was darkness in that smile though. A charming wolf in sheep's clothing. No matter how carefree and fun he looked, Delilah could sense something sinister within him.

Then there was the one with short blonde spiky hair. He had an obvious predatory look about him; searching around the ride with focus and determination. He had a smile on his face as well but it was a misleading smile, like he was a happy wolf who found plenty of prey. His heavy leather trench coat seemed out of place on the warm California night. Even next to the ocean, it was still fairly warm. Way too warm for such attire. It added an air of mystery to the man and put Delilah on edge. More so than all the others, he was the most dangerous one of them all.

The one that stood out the most was the one with long pitch black straight hair. He was tan and the most gorgeous man Delilah had ever seen in her life. He exuded confidence as all he wore were loose fitting jeans, a jacket, and a chorded necklace intertwined with what Delilah could only make out was fangs; his muscled chest shown chiseled under the bright lights. Her eyes followed down his torso to his treasure trail. The little wisps of dark hair around his naval that led down to secrets unknown to Delilah but she was aching to find out. He knew he had a great body and wasn't afraid to show it off. Delilah's breath hitched as she made eye contact with the dark haired one. She knew she was staring but couldn't look away. She's never seen anyone look the way he did. She couldn't help the exciting beat of her heart or the heat that pooled in her stomach and between her thighs. Her hands itched to run through his glorious dark mane and see if was as soft as it looked. She couldn't move. She no longer noticed the ride and her buzz was long gone. All she could do was gaze into his dark eyes and yearn for something she didn't have a name for. All her senses told her to run but her body wouldn't listen and she didn't want to. She wanted to do the opposite and go to him, damn the consequences.

He didn't smile. He looked the most serious out of the group but just as dangerous. While each one was different, their eyes were all the same; hungry and ready to pounce.

It was a crazy thought, she knew. People didn't eat people. It was unthinkable but she couldn't shake the feeling the men were dodgy. The short blonde angel looked to be nineteen at the most with the others looking to be in their early twenties.

The one with short blonde spiky hair went to his friend and whispered something into the dark haired one's ears. The blonde was smiling as if he was sharing some secret joke while the dark haired one's eyes remained on her. He was no longer looking into her eyes but roamed up and down her body. His eyes burned over her skin as he took in the rest of her. She felt like she was being sized up but a part of her wanted him to like what he saw. She wasn't dressed as fashionably as Val nor was she as well endowed in certain areas. But for some inexplicable reason she wanted him to want her; to want her as much as she wanted him at the moment.

The black haired one responded to his friend and Delilah couldn't tell what the response was but it made the group make their way to her and Val.

Conflicting emotions raged in Delilah as her lusts and body told her to stay put. An unbelievably hot older male was coming her way after eying her. Part of her was very flattered from the attention but her gut told her something different. It told her to run. Run fast and run far. There was this unexplainable danger to these males even though they looked mostly harmless. They had badass clothes but they were really just dressed like any other male who wanted to look tough. They were dressed in what was fashionable. Val was wearing similar feminine clothing and Delilah would be dressed the same if she was allowed.

But they were dangerous, that much she was sure about. Before they got a chance to get to her and before Val made protest of running away from the "Hawtest dudes she's ever seen" Delilah grabber her best friend and hurried off the carousel.

They got weird looks from the other riders and yelled at by the carnie operating the ride. Something about how it was dangerous to hop off a moving ride but Delilah had to get them out of there.

When Delilah felt they were far enough away she finally stopped. They were at basically the end of the boardwalk. As they stopped Val was finally able to jerk her arm away from Delilah and she looked at her friend like she was crazy.

"What is your problem, D? Those guys were fucking hawt and the blonde one was totally eye fucking me."

"Sorry I just needed some air…which one? There were three."

"All of them. They totally wanted to fuck me."

Delilah rolled her eyes at her conceited friend but had to give it to her. Val was looking good tonight and she wasn't a prude so they very well may have been looking at her. They also all might want to fuck her.

A competitive little voice inside her told her that "_The dark haired one didn't want her, he wanted you_." And as insane and petty as it was, Delilah couldn't help the feeling of pride that at least someone noticed her over Val.

Val was still too drunk and stoned to really argue or ask about Delilah's issues with the group of hot males. Delilah was grateful as she had no idea how to explain to Val what she was feeling.

"_Oh it's nothing. The guys just seemed inexplicably dangerous and I got the hell out of there. Especially the black haired one I wanted to fuck as well but my sense of self preservation kicked into overdrive and I high tailed it out of there. And here we are_."

It sounded crazy even in her head. She didn't want to think of how asinine it'd sound if she said it out loud.

Val was never a dull moment so they were off in another direction, looking for adventure.

The adventure led them to a couple of guys around their age, or maybe a little older. Neither of them was sober so it was hard to get any information out of them.

Delilah was never great at talking with guys so she left most of the conversation up to Val who flirted up a storm. The two guys weren't nearly as attractive as the group they saw on the ride but they had more weed and booze; so they were winners in Val's book.

Delilah shyly took the offered liquor and weed but she didn't have a good feeling about these guys either. They were well muscled and very not afraid to get into her space. They each somewhat paired off and she was getting that feeling again, where she knew something bad was going to happen. It wasn't nearly as strong as when they were on the carousel so she let it slide. There was no way Val would let her live it down if she ran away from guys twice in one night. Delilah decided to push down her troubled feelings and try to enjoy the rest of the night.

"_I'm probably being dumb anyway. What's the worst that could happen_?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Lost Boys belongs to Warner Bros. and their affiliates, Janice Fischer, James Jeremias, Jeffrey Boam, and Joel Schumacher. I make no money or other forms of profit from this endeavor. As for any original content: Any likeness, similarities, and resemblance to actual persons (living or dead), places, and events are unintentional and purely coincidental.**

**This fic is unbeta'd. If anyone would like to volunteer to beta this fic, feel free to contact me via PM on ff . net**

**Warning!: This chapter contains delicate subject matter such as rape. If you or anyone you know is a victim of rape, get help. For further information please go to RAINN . org If you are uncomfortable with such issues I suggest skipping this chapter and perhaps the story altogether. It also contains violence and murder. **

The group clumsily made their way through the boardwalk, Val getting more intoxicated and obnoxious. Delilah tried to relax but she couldn't get the feeling of something bad was going to happen off her mind. She felt twitchy and that eyes were watching her. She looked about and other than the Guido hanging off her, no one was paying attention to them.

Delilah really had no idea what Val saw in them and no idea why she was going along with it. She knew she ought to speak up but something stopped her. Delilah knew that Val would throw a fit, especially in her friend's drunk state. She thought it was better to just take the guys pawing and wait till Val got tired of them.

Delilah looked over to they guy she was with. He was tall, tan, and well muscled. He was no where nearly as good looking as the guy on the carousal. The unknown male on the ride was more of a classic handsome and this guy was the white trash version. He had on what Delilah could tell was fake gold chains. The tell tale green marks along their necks were very obvious. As was the gaudy matching earrings both males had. Those might have been real because there no was indication that they were fake. Delilah wouldn't doubt they'd waste a lot of money on something so tacky.

The two males had led them to a deserted alley way between the games and an out of business restaurant. Dirty garbage, broken bottles, and wooden crates littered the area.

"Wow. Trés romantique guys." Delilah said sarcastically. Val was too busy sucking face with her guy to notice. The guy hanging off Delilah, she had no idea what his name was, was too shitfaced to notice the tone she used. Overall this was turning out to be a pretty shitty 17th birthday.

The empty feeling was returning and Delilah didn't think any amount of booze or weed was going to make it go away this time. Her buzz was gone and all that was left was the creepy crawly feeling that someone was watching her. The four teenagers were alone in the alley way and she couldn't see anyone else. She didn't know why she was so paranoid but her instinct told her she was not in a good situation. It was still better than the one she was in on the carousel but she still couldn't shake off the feeling something was wrong.

She didn't know what was wrong with her or how to make herself happy. Drugs and alcohol always wore off and she was not interested in the guy next to her no matter how much attention he was showering upon her.

She was in a bitter mood and her companion didn't seem notice as he was constantly trying to paw at her.

She was about to let him know exactly how unwelcome his advances were but it seemed that Val was in the same predicament.

"Hey, now come on. Stop it."

Val slurred her words at the meathead that had pushed her against the brick wall. He got more aggressive in his actions as his hands went up her thighs and it was clear that while she was drunk she was not receptive to his advances. She kept saying "no" and pushing him away with what little strength she had.

Delilah went to help her friend but meathead number two was not about to let her "cockblock" his friend or take no for an answer. He roughly grabbed her arm and pulled her back from helping Val. The sharp pain in her arm told her that she was going to be bruised the next day. It was cleared from her mind when she saw exactly how far the aggressive male was willing to go to get what he wanted from Val.

He had placed his hand over Val's mouth to drown out her screams. His other hand easily tore off her underwear and Delilah's heart stopped. She couldn't believe what she was seeing. Her best friend was about to be raped and she struggled against the male holding her back. Fear pounded through her as the second male had something similar in mind. She had suddenly lost her voice and didn't know what to do.

School had always warned them to stay away from boys like them but never told them what to do in case the boys came to them.

"Come on sweetheart, don't be a tease."

Meathead #2 was still holding her tightly and his breath upon her face made her want to vomit. He smelled of cheap whiskey and death, as if he'd never brushed his teeth in his life. The putrid smell made her gag and even if she had been shitfaced she would never think of ever kissing such a man.

While she didn't have the wits to scream for help, Delilah ran on pure instinct. She fought her assailant with everything she had. She wasn't as strong as him but she had the advantage of being more sober. The drunk male was not coordinated at all and he overcompensated for his lack of perception. He threw her down to the ground and stumbled to attack her again. This gave Delilah the advantage as she was no longer held captive. She quickly looked around and found loose wood board from one of the crates.

The wood felt heavy in her hands and as she lifted the plank, she put all her weight into swinging it towards the meathead's thick skull. The lumber made a definitive "thwack!" as it made contact and the male dropped to his knees dazed. In the midst of all her fear she became angry; angry that this male dared to touch her without her consent. That he had planned vile things for her and he thought he had every right to. She was angry at her parents because it was her birthday. She should have been with them celebrating her birth with cake and presents. Instead she was out hanging with hoods and it led to this situation. Her anger became a living breathing entity; it wanted to lash out and hurt someone. Meathead number two would do nicely.

Her fury was let out every time she swung down the timber upon the male's head. Blood started to spray out from his wounds and it egged her on further.

She liked the sight of his blood. The feel of it on her hands, its copper scent invading her nose. It meant that she was winning this fight and he was hurt. Only when the male laid still and his head looking like pulp had she finally stopped. Her breathing was ragged and her eyes dilated. Not from the drugs but the sheer adrenaline rush that came with violence.

Laughter erupted from her chest and she reveled in the bloodshed. This was more alive than she had ever felt in her life. She won a fight. The feeling of accomplishment washed over her and she couldn't help but feel pride at being able to defend herself.

But the fight was not over.

Meathead #1 had managed in his drunken stupor to undo his pants and he was violently thrusting into Val.

Delilah saw that her friend was in pain and the tears running down Val's eyes riled Delilah all over again. She had thrown down her piece of wood and picked up the first empty glass bottle she found on the ground by its neck. Turns out that one person's trash was another person's shank. She quickly broke the bottle against the brick wall and what she had left was a very sharp and deadly weapon.

She wanted to see more blood.

The disgusting male was grunting against her friend like an animal, thrusting into her without any consideration to Val. Delilah was livid that the asshat thought he could do as he please without consequence. She was so angry that it pounded through her ears. She could not hear the commotion of the boardwalk. Her vision tunneled so that all she could see was the meathead violating her friend. She gripped the broken bottle so hard she was surprised it didn't break. It felt light and natural in her hand. She knew exactly what she was going to do with it. The male was distracted with his rutting that he didn't hear the commotion of Delilah beating his friend to death nor the breaking glass. If he had he might have been able to defend himself against Delilah's onslaught. Even if he did, with how angry Delilah felt she was sure that nothing could save him from her.

She went right for his neck and his precious blood squirted out of him like a hose under pressure. The mix of alcohol and exertion had the meathead's blood pumping quickly and it escaped its host vigorously. It was nothing like the movies. Blood was much darker and watery.

The male had immediately stopped his attack on Val and stumbled back from the wound. Val had quickly crumpled to the ground as her legs would not support her. She curled up into a ball and cried She looked on in horror to see her attacker wounded as such; her best friend wild eyed and covered with blood.

Delilah was not satisfied though. She threw herself onto him and stabbed the meathead over and over again, just like with the other male. She didn't want to stop; she wanted all of his blood on the ground. Delilah couldn't help herself and she pierced the male's throat and chest in random places. She wanted him to bleed. She wanted him to hurt. She wanted to make sure he knew what he did was wrong and that he'd never do it again.

It would be a lesson he would remember for the rest of his life…which would only be for a few more moments.

Delilah couldn't believe the rush she was having. This was better than any booze or weed she'd ever had. The kill was glorious. Not only the high of shedding the bastard's blood; but the feeling of vindication she felt. This male deserved what she was giving him. He was a bad man and bad things happened to bad people. She was making sure of that. Every stroke of her shank cut into the male's flesh, easily parting the delicate skin. Delilah was amazed at how flimsy the human body was; how easy it was to cut open. Her hands were starting to lose its grip on the glass bottle due to all the blood. Her energy was dropping and strain was starting to settle in. She didn't let it stop her though; she wanted to hack the asshole till there was nothing left but battered meat. In her haze she didn't notice that the male had long been dead but it didn't matter to her. She wanted him very dead. She was angry at a lot of things. Brutalizing the male, made all the shitty things in her life go by the wayside.

Val had a new nightmare she was living. Moments ago she was being taken against her will by some scumbag she had picked up. She knew he seemed shady but she never thought he would go that far. It wasn't like she was even that unwilling to fuck him, just not in a public place like an ally way. She did have some standards. But he wouldn't take "no" for an answer and took what he wanted. It was the single worst experience of her life. She wasn't ready for him and his member tearing through her dry womanhood felt like losing her virginity all over again. She tried to scream but his hands covered her mouth, silencing her. She saw that Delilah was about to be in the same predicament and shame bloomed inside her as she knew it was her fault. She had picked up the guys and Delilah just wanted to hang.

Val had resigned herself to her fate and couldn't fight the male off anymore. She had stilled, closed her eyes, and prayed it would all be over soon. She couldn't help the groans of pain as he thrust violently into her or the tears that escaped her eyes but she did her best to shut it all away.

The next thing she knew, the male had removed himself from her and when she opened her eyes, she saw a big gaping slash where his throat should be. Blood splattered all over her and she let out a scream. She pulled her legs into herself, wanting to be as small as possible. To be away from the nightmare she found herself in as possible.

"_This can't be happening. This is a nightmare or a seriously bad trip. But it can't be happening." _Val told herself over and over again.

But every time she closed her eyes, hoping that she'd wake up she would open them to find she was in the same place; a dirty ally way and her best friend straddling the body of her former attacker. Viciously assaulting the male with, what Val could make out was a broken bottle, over and over again. This was not what frightened Val. A part of her was glad that the asshole was getting what he deserved. No, what frightened her was Delilah. She had never seen her friend, or anyone, look so wild and animalistic. The usually demure girl was all aggression and violence as she kept hacking at the dead body. Meathead number one, Val vaguely remembers his name being Johnny, long laid lifeless and bled out but Delilah didn't seem to notice. Her best friend was totally engrossed in what she was doing. Not only absorbed in the kill but enjoying it. She had never seen such a scene. She had never seen her friend enjoy something so much. Delight was practically radiating off Delilah.

"Dee…Dee…DEE!" Val stuttered out before yelling. She didn't move from her spot, still crawled up into herself, afraid of the world around her.

Val yelling for her got Delilah out of her blood lust. She turned to her best friend and saw that Val was very frightened. She was confused for a moment because she had gotten rid of the threat. He lied beneath her in a pool of his own blood; his front body cut up to smithereens. She looked down at herself and Delilah saw that her entire front was covered with blood and viscera.

Delilah was morbidly fascinated with the scene. Meathead was more or less reduced to thick spaghetti in a really runny sauce. Her heart was running a mile a minute and her body was flooded with adrenaline. This was the biggest rush she had ever experienced and it was killing someone. In the back of her mind she knew she ought to be horrified but she was too enthralled with her "artwork." She had never killed something before. She had eaten meat but never had to kill her dinner. Meat had always come in neat little packages in the grocery store, devoid of most of its blood. But here and now she was witnessing slaughter firsthand; by her hand. She ran her hands through the quickly cooling gore and idled in its touch. It was no different than any of the meat she had prepared for dinner. This was also not dinner. Killing him had been easy. There was no horror. There was no guilt. She felt…she wasn't sure what she felt. Good was a vast understatement but it wasn't the kind of good she was used to. It was beyond drugs and alcohol. All the anger and emptiness she had felt was gone. She felt at…peace. What she had done, it had felt…natural. She slowly began to realize the feelings she was having. Her God given right to defend herself and she'd do it all over again.

In the midst of all the blood, his gold earring shinned under the alley's dim lights. She wasn't sure why but she had the urge to take the earring. She felt that it now undeniably hers. She had earned it. So without another thought and a quick tug, she ripped out the earring. She got up and went to the first male and tore out his earring. They wouldn't need them anymore.

Covered in the blood of her fallen attackers, she had never seen more beautiful jewelry. In her hands they no longer looked gaudy but like the greatest treasure she had ever seen.

She looked back to Val and pocketed the earrings. Her friend was still terrified. Seeing Val's wide eyes, filled with new tears and her mouth agape in horror finally got through to Delilah. She was coming down from her high and the situation she was in was finally hitting her.

She just killed someone. Two someones. This was bad. This was very bad. Panic started to settle in.

Delilah didn't feel bad about killing two losers who probably wouldn't be missed anyway but she realized that she murdered someone in the murder capital of the world.

"_OK, no need to panic. Just need to get Val and walk away._" She thought to herself, getting her grip back on reality. The situation was something she could handle and she would.

"Val…can you walk?" she questioned her friend who seemed to have spaced out.

It took a couple more prods but Val finally nodded her head. Delilah took her friend as gently as she could, a stark contrast to her earlier brutality. Val seemed hesitant as she got closer to the body but urgency struck Delilah. Staying in one place with dead bodies would not bode well for them and Delilah did not want to be caught.

She listened for any commotion or indication that someone had seen or heard them. All Delilah could hear was the crashing of the waves and the roar of the roller coaster. The world was acting as if nothing just happened. Everyone was still having a good time on the boardwalk. Delilah felt like she had entered some kind of alien world. Everything looked completely normal but there was definitely a fundamental difference that she could sense. Everything was different now. She had no idea what the difference meant. She didn't have time to think about it because she had two dead bodies on her hands and she was covered in blood.

"_Nothing happened_." Delilah told herself strongly. As long as they walked away then everything would be fine. She could walk away from this and no one would be the wise. Santa Carla was a seedy place and everyone in Buena Flores knew it. She had always been warned to stay away from the boardwalk. It was full of degenerates and it was no place for a young girl. No one would suspect them of anything, Delilah told herself. A lingering doubt poisoned her mind and made her hesitate. How many stories had she heard of girls claiming rape and no one believing them? Especially with the way Val was dressed; Delilah knew accusations of Val "asking for it" would come up. What if they did a drug test? They would find the weed and booze in their system. What if she was accused of having a really bad trip? and that's what made her tear into the guys. The males were torn to shreds, would they believe she was defending herself? She took a quick look at the eviscerated male and she had to admit to herself that it looked more like an animal torn into him than self-defense. She could hear her own father's voice accusing them of such acts.

"_Your honor, Delilah is nothing but a drug fiend murderer! She killed these two men under the influence of drugs!_"

Over and over again she heard the million and one ways a prosecutor would paint her. She had seen enough trials in her lifetime, with her dad, where the prosecution cooked up any number of stories. They're job was to make the accused looked guilty and Delilah made up her mind. They couldn't stay there and call the police. Part of her guilty mind knew she wouldn't get off scott free. Fear of having to justify her actions to a jury and them seeing through her. This was more than just defending herself. She knew that she could have defended herself without killing two men that night. She could have just knocked them out and ran. No, she knew that she killed them partly because she wanted to; not only did she want to but she enjoyed it. She could distinctively recall the rush it gave her. She didn't want to try to lie in front of a jury and them seeing right through her. She wasn't willing to go to jail and face the firing squad for two worthless rapists. She knew what she had to do.

"Come one Val, we need to get out of here."

Delilah quickly grabbed her somewhat shell shocked friend, threw the broken bottle at the brick wall so it shattered into a million pieces, and ditched out the ally way. They took the long way behind all the shops, carnival games, and restaurants. The less they were seen the better. Delilah was running on pure adrenaline. Not really thinking of where she was going but using her instinct to avoid people. She felt a lot better in the shadows, away from sight. The feeling of someone watching was blessedly gone. She had no idea if there were ever eyes on her; she hoped to God there wasn't. She couldn't go through all this trouble just to be snitched on later. She shook those thoughts from her head. She was determined to get home unseen and wash away all the evidence. Out of sight, out of mind. Try as she might she could not stop the paranoia of being discovered.

Fear pulsed through Delilah now as she was terrified of being caught. She was sure her pupils were blown from the drugs and the thrill of the kill. She also looked like she just murdered someone. She had no idea how she'd explain why she was covered with blood and bits of pieces of a former person.

"_Maybe I can say it's a slushie. Cops would believe that right? Teenagers throwing slushies at each other cause we're young and crazy? That's it, I'll tell them I'm covered in thick cherry slushie that dries brown and has a distinctive copper scent._ "

Delilah's mind worked overtime trying to come up with something that didn't sound so ridiculous but she was coming up blank. She looked like she was covered in blood and she highly doubted anyone would believe otherwise. She quickened her steps and pulled Val with her. She wasn't going to get caught. She couldn't get caught.

Val remained silent the entire way, looking impassively to the ground as Delilah wove their way from eyesight to her car. After what seemed a lifetime and miles upon miles, they finally got to Delilah's red convertible Mustang. She sent up a silent prayer thanking her dad for getting her a car that was easy to get into. Delilah put Val in the car as gently as she could; she knew her friend was traumatized from the attack. Never did she think that her friend was afraid of her. She stealthily put up the top, scared that being too exposed with the top dropped. Any passing cop car could easily seen Delilah's blood stained clothing. It was late and she hoped that the Delilah let out a sigh of relief as they drove away from the boardwalk and into the dark silent night.

"It's going to be ok." She said to Val, not liking the uncomfortable silence. "We're going to get cleaned up and act like nothing happened. It's going to be ok."

Delilah was more or less trying to convince herself. Scary thoughts of going to prison and being someone's bitch were brought to mind. A dark wave rippled through her, telling "_You won't be anyone's bitch. If someone tries to mess with you, they'll end up like those two surf Nazis_."

A small smile crept onto her face as she remembered all the blood and exactly how dead she made those two assholes. She forgot her fear as she relived each blessed stroke that ended two men's lives. A thrill shot through her at remembering all the blood. The meathead's earrings felt heavy in her pocket. Nice little trophies to always remind her exactly what she was capable of doing. She was confident no one would be able to touch her ever again. Still, prison was not sounding like a good option so she kept her head on straight and thought of ways to make this all go away.

Val only stared into nothing.

Delilah ignored her friend's catatonic state. She was convinced that all she needed to do was get Val to her house, clean her up, and things would look better in the morning.

Again she repeated, "It's going to be fine. No one saw us. It's going to be fine."

Delilah was wrong though. Someone did see them.


	3. Chapter 3

**Lost Boys belongs to Warner Bros. and their affiliates, Janice Fischer, James Jeremias, Jeffrey Boam, and Joel Schumacher. I make no money or other forms of profit from this endeavor. As for any original content: Any likeness, similarities, and resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, places, and events are unintentional and purely coincidental.**

**This fic is unbeta'd. If anyone would like to volunteer to beta this fic, feel free to contact me via PM on **

Dwayne had prowled the boardwalk many times. It was the same shit different night. Families milling about with their screeching kids, couples acting sickeningly affectionate, and teenagers roaming about in packs; thinking nothing could hurt them and they could do as they pleased. They terrorized the tourists and acted as obnoxious as they wanted. They thought they were invincible in the seemingly docile town known as Santa Carla.

Dwayne smirked to himself. He would show them exactly how vulnerable they were. He didn't care that they were young; in fact he preferred them that way. Young blood was way better than older blood; there was always more life and vitality in younger blood. The younger the better; children were not spared from their fangs. Blood was blood and they didn't discriminate where it came from.

His thoughts turned to the newest member of the pack. The female Star was a half vampire and Dwayne didn't trust her. She had scruples about killing humans and she wouldn't survive as a full vampire if she kept that attitude up. He didn't think he could trust anyone in their nest if they had issues with their lifestyle. Still, David chose her and there was nothing Dwayne could do about it. David took his council but could not be swayed. David was confident it was only a matter of time that Star would feed and felt no need to rush things. So Dwayne minded his own business, always keeping an eye on Star and was ready to protect David if the need ever arose. There was only one way to turn a Halfling back into a human and that was to kill the Sire of the bloodline. Dwayne didn't know whose blood ran through his veins and neither did Star. She was under the assumption that it was David's and he let her think as much. This was a strategic maneuver on David's part as he didn't want to reveal they had a Sire to someone not fully initiated into the pack. The last thing Dwayne wanted was for Star to turn on them and try to kill David in an attempt to regain her humanity. He kept his distance from the half vampire and she clung to David.

Luckily tonight, David was not in the mood to nag Star about making her first kill so he let her wander the boardwalk to entertain herself. They were on the hunt for their nightly kill, all eager to feed.

Dwayne was feeling a bit peckish that night. He was hungry but wasn't sure what he wanted. He was tired of the random stoner or the stupid white trash that trolled the boardwalk. Santa Carla was always teaming with plenty to eat but he felt…bored with the menu of late. The food had taken to using way too much hair spray and perfume; it choked up his lungs to smell the sharp scent of chemicals. The food, mostly females, bathed in what they though made them smell like vanilla, sugar, or some other ungodly sweet scent; but all he could smell was the alcohol that went into making the cheap perfume. The males were not any better. They seemed to be under the impression that applying layers of deodorant was akin to taking a shower. So under all the chemicals he could smell their several days' worth of filth on them. It was very unpleasant and off putting. Humanity generally disgusted him but their blood called out to him and he could not ignore the siren song. Unfortunately for Dwayne, his pack mate Paul had adopted the current trend. It was beneficial to them as immortals to keep up with the latest styles to blend in but Dwayne wished that big teased out hair would not have become chic. He preferred his own hair natural and long, as kept by his people before he was turned. Paul liked the hair metal look and stole aerosol cans when he could. So not only did Dwayne have to put up with it at the boardwalk, he had to deal with it at their nest as well.

"_I cannot fucking wait till the big hair style fucking ends_."

Trends change with time and so he could wait it out. He waited out powdered wigs as well as the conservative short and neat styles of early 21st century. He enjoyed the period of loose wild hair with no products in it during the sixties and seventies. He blended in effortlessly as most people just assumed he was another hippie. Now the style called for long teased hair that was stiff and crunchy. He hated it but he told himself over and over again he could wait it out. Time was not an issue for creatures such as them.

Dwayne and his pack meandered up and down the boardwalk, perusing the nightly specials; see who they would want to eat later on. If nothing turned up then they'd comb the beach for secluded parties of underage teenagers who wanted to drink freely, hidden from prying eyes. They were especially prevalent during these last days of summer. Teenagers wanted to get their final kicks off before having to return to school.

"_Hmmm I wonder if I'm in the mood for a good beach party slaughter_." Dwayne thought casually to himself as if he was picking out a restaurant. "_Those are always fun_."

His fangs nearly descended and his face almost vamped out. He wouldn't be surprised if his eyes flared the ungodly yellow and hellfire red of his inner demon. He was hungrier than he thought. The images of ripping into tender young throats, drinking in all the vital life blood of youth. He salivated in anticipation of drinking till their hearts stopped pumping and their bodies went cold. That was the ultimate high; drinking the last bit of life before they died. It was almost as if whatever made them alive was now in him. It was complete savagery and he reveled in the kills. As an immortal predator Dwayne had long forgotten fear; but he knew the taste of it in his prey's blood. It gave the blood a more savory taste and it was why the boys always went for the kill in their true faces. Let the food see exactly what their fate was and who was killing them. Their progenitor had a more subtle way of doing things. Seducing his prey and never letting on he was more than one of them. At least that was what they had been told. Dwayne and the others, except David, had never seen nor met the one who had given them eternal life. The Sire was as mysterious as Christ himself as far as they were concerned. David the holy vessel in which The Sire spoke through. As second in command, Dwayne never questioned why he was never told whose blood ran through his veins. He was grateful for the gift and kept quiet. Paul would sometimes speak up about wondering why their maker wouldn't hunt with them but David quickly put the long haired blonde in his place. It was not for them to know and Dwayne was content with that.

The denizens of Santa Carla all flocked to the boardwalk. It was one of the only attractions in the small beach town; despite the high missing persons rate, people were still compelled to go. Dwayne didn't know if they all secretly had a death wish or were too stupid to see what was in front of them. Overall Dwayne didn't care; their lack of self-preservation was his meal ticket.

He slowly made his way to the carousel. The same chipper, repetitive, annoying music it had when he'd first seen one over a century ago. For some reason, humans were captivated by wooden animals moving about in a circle to nauseating music. Dwayne hated the ride but David always liked to check for tasty little morsels on the merry-go-round. Sometimes David was very particular about what he ate, so he liked to go over every option for the night. That meant searching all over the boardwalk, including children magnets such as the kiddie rides. It wasn't often but the carousel did manage to scrounge up delectable little treats.

Such as the raven haired female sitting in one of the chariots on the carousel. The dark haired girl wasn't bobbing up and down, so Dwayne was able to get a straight look at her. She had very delicate features and long black hair; just like his own. He wondered if she had any Mohave in her but dismissed the thoughts when he stared into her eyes. Her olive complexion had to come from some kind of Eurasian decent as her almond shaped eyes denoted. He could smell her from where he was across the ride and he inhaled her scent greedily. He took pleasure in her pure fragrance, enjoying the clean unpolluted scent of a human female. She smelled of the sun and wide open fields; a refreshing change from the sickly sweet smell of artificial flowers and baked goods. She didn't wear perfume or use scented soaps and lotions. Her smell was completely her own. Her hair wasn't ratted up or teased either. Her clean silky locks looked soft and shiny as they cascaded down her shoulders. He could scent that she had been drinking and smoking pot but it wasn't overpowering on her. She was enjoying a nice buzz, not bent on her own destruction by binging like her companion.

Dwayne sensed Paul right beside him and saw that the girl's companion was looking his blonde pack mate over. It seemed like it would be a double "date" kind of meal.

As Dwayne's eyes seared over his next meal, enjoying her natural beauty, he caught her eyes and he couldn't look away. He felt a strange connection with the girl, as some unspoken communication went on between them. Even though the ride was filled with people and noise, all he could do was focus on her. Her scent blazed with the smell of arousal as she looked him over and his hunger sparked all over again; and this time not just for blood. He her scent indicated she was untouched and it made his mouth water even more. Perhaps he would taste more than just her blood. She wouldn't be the first female he took his time with to seduce and then feed off of. Besides fear, sex was the best thing to spice the blood.

He was hungry and getting aroused. Her eyes dilated and fear spiked within her but she didn't look away. He didn't understand what he did to set her off but it was affecting his predatory instinct. He felt the urge to charge at her before she got away. He had every intention to have her tonight.

David leaned in closer to him, Dwayne never breaking his eye contact with the dark haired girl, and his leader spoke to him softly.

"See something you like?"

Dwayne was never a man of many words he simply playfully smirked and said "Yes."

He was about to move in on his prey but the girl's fear level peaked into a full panic and her scent gave off a bit of an acidic orange smell. She was very scared and she took off suddenly.

Dwayne's interest was even further piqued because it seemed she knew what they were and his intentions. It wasn't impossible as there were a few humans who knew of their kind but Dwayne had his doubts. If she knew what they were, why was she aroused by him? Why didn't she run in the first place? Her friend looked very surprised by her dark haired friend's sudden escape and seemed unwilling to leave. The mystery girl was stronger than she looked and didn't let her friend slow her down or stay behind. They were off the merry-go-round quickly and caused a bit of commotion. Paul was as disappointed as was Dwayne but it didn't matter. The girls couldn't go far and there were plenty of other meals to choose from on the boardwalk.

He didn't want another meal though. The girl was intriguing and it had been a long time since anyone had fascinated Dwayne. He had made up his mind to look further into this puzzling girl.

The two friends had run their way down the boardwalk as far away as they could possibly go without leaving it. The boys easily caught with them due to their inhumane speed. They cloaked themselves in the darkness to remain unseen.

The blonde was very confused and a bit angry at her raven haired friend. The girl for her part, he learned her name was Delilah, seemed to be just as confused. She didn't tell her friend why she had run. Dwayne got the sense that Delilah genuinely didn't know why she ran. Her blood was pumping from the alarm and exertion of running away. Dwayne was so tempted to pick her up now and spill her blood but something stopped him besides the fact they were in too public of a place. He wanted to observe her more and find out more about her.

Dwayne could easily hear their conversation as if he was right next to him and the more and more he studied Delilah, the more he was captivated. The girl was clearly not a hunter. She didn't look like she could kill a fly much less a vampire. She didn't have the stance of a fighter. She merely seemed as if she was running away from danger. It was apparent to him that while she didn't know what he was, she instinctively ran away from a threat. It was very unique among her kind to realize when she was in danger and to run away from it. There was also the unidentifiable connection he felt with her. She was different. He didn't know how or why she was different but every instinct he had told him she was. That made him cautious and willing to be patient before going in for the kill.

David smiled to himself at the intense look Dwayne was giving his next meal. It wasn't very often that his second in command ever asked for anything so he was happy to oblige this stake out. The two girls looked appetizing and it wasn't like they had anything better to do on the boardwalk that night. David himself was as bored of the local fare as Dwayne was, so a change of pace was quite welcomed.

David also studied Delilah. Not with the fascination or intensity of Dwayne but he too was curious about the skittish girl. She was not like the other head banger females that swarmed the boardwalk. From her expensive clothes it was apparent to him she was not from Santa Carla; probably the more affluent suburbs such as Buena Flores or San Dorado. He could also smell her natural scent, a mix of fresh cut grass and open air, which also appealed to David. He would let his second in command have her though. He was a fair and strong leader. Dwayne saw her first and basically called dibs.

He sensed hostility flare in Dwayne and saw the reason for it. While Delilah had dragged her friend, Val he learned from the girl's conversation, away from the boys in a real hurry; the girl allowed two no-neck wannabe body builders hang all over them. Dwayne was not happy about this but his cool stoic facade never wavered. The dark haired vampire gave off the vibe that he was ready to pounce on the whole group and tear them limb from limb. David would normally encourage this behavior, even join in, but it was way too crowded for that. They couldn't even fly over them and pick them up; way too many witnesses. Still, Dwayne was second in command for a reason. While tense and eager, he never showed any signs of losing control. So they waited and watched the four teenagers at a safe distance, waiting for their chance to strike.

Annoyingly, the quad of youth bumbled up and down the boardwalk for what seemed an eternity. The blonde and two males getting more and more hammered as the night went on. Delilah looked as if she was trying to do the same but eventually turned down all forms of drugs and alcohol. She kept looking around as if she could sense they were watching her. David was curious about this as he has never come across a human that could sense their presence, at least not to this extent. Everyone had an innate sense of when a predator is around but humans evolved to be at the top of the food chain, or so they thought, and had more or less lost the ability to sense predators.

Delilah was proving to have a very good sense of when she was in danger. It was clear that she wasn't comfortable with the two males. David didn't blame her as he could smell the aggression and anger off of them. While shitfaced, they did expect to score that night and he could tell that they wouldn't take no for an answer. He has seen assholes like that his entire existence. Males who thought they had a right to any female that presented themselves. Even as an unsympathetic killer who didn't discriminate based on age or gender, David knew how to court a female properly. He never felt the need to force himself onto a female to show his sexual dominance. He looked on to see how this would all play out.

David's prediction turned out to be true because the males had led them to an abandoned part of the boardwalk and into an alley way. The two males either weren't that shitfaced or were just used to cornering girls into secluded areas where no one would hear them scream.

Val had tried to fight off her attacker but she was very inebriated and the male was much stronger than her.

Delilah had watched in horror as her friend was being raped and she knew she was about to suffer the same fate.

Dwayne was ready to take action because the male who would soil his meal, and if anyone was going to do that it would be him, but then something interesting happened.

The small girl took a random wooden plank she found on the ground and beat the hell out of her attacker. Like really beat the hell out of him. All the boys, even Marko and Paul who weren't paying that much attention but tagging along because a pack sticks together, were floored by the turn of events.

David was doubly impressed because at his age and everything he's seen, being surprised was a very rare occurrence for him.

Dwayne was memorized by Delilah. The demure girl had turned into a tiger when threatened and she could take care of herself. The heady smell of spilt blood invaded his nostrils. He remembered how hungry he was and he vamped out but stayed where he was. He was too enthralled with the girl. It wasn't just the violence and blood that aroused him. It was the look on her face: pure elation. She wasn't just defending herself. She was enjoying the kill. Perhaps that was the kinship that he felt with her on the carousel. Deep down she was a killer, just like him.

Delilah had snapped out of her rage long enough to see that her friend was in danger. She dropped the wooden plank and picked up a glass bottle. She broke it again the wall, the sharp breaking of glass was music to his ears because Dwayne knew there was more bloodshed to be had at the hands of the small girl.

He was not disappointed when she went straight for the throat. A real killer move, figuratively and literally. She killed the asshole with just as much intensity as the first one. She could not be stopped and all the boys looked on in approval. The girl was a slayer at her core. She couldn't hide it from her face or her smell. They could scent the adrenaline seeping out of every pore, the euphoria that shone on her face. The only thing that stopped her was her friend. Even then, Delilah took a moment to appreciate her fine work and revel in the bloodshed.

After a few moments of contemplation, Delilah seemed to have made up her mind of what to do. She had surveyed the damage and calculated her next move. It showed that she was not sorry for what she did. She not only enjoyed it in the moment but she was not about to go crawl into a ball in a fit of guilt. She pragmatically decided to skip out and avoid detection.

But she did not go without taking two trophies and Dwayne smiled at the compulsion because he was prone to doing the same. The jacket he wore was not one he bought himself.

The two girls quickly made their getaway and the boys let them.

Dwayne didn't have it in him to kill a fellow killer. He also wanted to get a closer look at Delilah's handy work.

When the girls were out of sight the boys swooped in on the scene.

David couldn't help but whistle his appreciation for good bloodshed. The guy was little more than steak tar tar when Delilah was through with him. There wasn't even enough blood for them to scavenge; it was all on the alley floor, reflecting the dim lights of the boardwalk; the pools of blood becoming crimson mirrors. While they all were admiring the savagely torn up Guido, Dwayne heard a faint sound he was sure he wouldn't hear. A soft wet nasally breath coming from the first guy Delilah ravaged.

"_Wow, the asshole is still alive. Delilah wasn't as thorough as she thought_." Dwayne thought to himself. He didn't give too much criticism though; it was her first time and all. Can't expect her to be perfect but damn was this a good first try.

The others heard the beaten male as well and gathered around him. Delilah had made quick work of this male as well. His occipital lobe was fractured and almost concaved. They could see bits and pieces of his bone sticking out of the red gooey mess. There wasn't nearly as much blood but since it was a head wound there was plenty of it. Dwayne could see why Delilah thought she killed him. And in most cases she would be right but sometimes there was always the few jerkoffs that refused to die.

His intended meal was gone but this guy would be a nice consolation prize. He quickly looked to his leader, asking David silently for permission to eat. Normally the alpha always ate first but David was never one for strict formalities. David gave a small nod for approval and Dwayne vamped out and feasted on the male.

The meat head was had a bitter aftertaste but it was blood all the same. He imagined Delilah would be much much sweeter. At the thought of the pretty female killer, Dwayne bit down even harder till there wasn't anything left.

The lifeblood coursed through Dwayne's veins and gave him a renewed sense of energy. It wasn't nearly enough to slate all his hunger but it would do for now.

The boys had easily picked up the bodies and disposed of them out to sea. It was an easy feat given their strength and ability to fly. They admired Delilah for defending herself and giving such an awesome display. It would be a shame if she got caught and locked away forever because two losers didn't know the meaning of "no."

As Dwayne dumped the body of the broken male he smiled widely.

He really hoped Delilah would be back.

**A/N: I want to give a shout out to Emzy2k11 and stuckXrunningXupXthatXhill for the wonderful reviews. They are greatly appreciated and can't tell you how much they mean to me. I hope everyone enjoys the fic and feel free to review as much as you like!**

**Also, constructive criticism is always welcomed. I am always looking for ways to improve my writing and grow as a writer. I'm a big girl, I can take anything so don't feel like if you have something to say will stop me from writing.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Lost Boys belongs to Warner Bros. and their affiliates, Janice Fischer, James Jeremias, Jeffrey Boam, and Joel Schumacher. I make no money or other forms of profit from this endeavor. As for any original content: Any likeness, similarities, and resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, places, and events are unintentional and purely coincidental.**

**This fic is unbeta'd. If anyone would like to volunteer to beta this fic, feel free to contact me via PM on **

Delilah drove through the all but deserted highway, acutely aware of everything that went on around her. She knew that Val was dejectedly looking outside the window, a shell of her usually vibrant self. Her friend had gone somewhere far away without moving and she was worried about Val. She did her best to concentrate on the road and her speed. This was the most careful Delilah had ever driven since her driving test. She had never cared more than she did at the moment to not attract the attention of the police or anyone else. Scenario after scenario raced through her mind, going over every type of situation she could think of if she were to be pulled over by the police. They all ended with her being locked up because they wouldn't believe any story she thought up to explain why she was covered in blood.

The once quiet town of Buena Flores seemed like a hostile place where everyone was out to get her. She had never been so paranoid and stressed in her life. Her palms were slick with blood and sweat as she gave her steering wheel a death grip. Her heart hadn't stopped palpitating since they left the boardwalk.

Even as she pulled into her gated community she hadn't relaxed an ounce. She was thankful that the night guard was off duty and she had to swipe her keycard to get in.

"_Thank God for technological advances_."

When she pulled into her garage she tensed even more. Her dad wasn't home; it was obvious from the lack of the Buick in the garage. It was just her cherry red Mustang and her mother's Mercedes.

"Oh God, I will never complain about my father's crazy hours ever again," Delilah prayed thankful for once of her father's hectic schedule.

She steeled herself to get herself out of the car. Fear had paralyzed her as the open world seemed too big and there were too many chances that she'd get caught. She wasn't ready for her life to be over due to two assholes that had it coming. She liked her cushy life at her prep school. Dealing with catty rich bitches and self-entitled assholes seemed like the far more appealing alternative to butch dykes ready to rape her at any second or psychos wanting to stab her with a prison shank make from a tooth brush.

A terrible future lay out before her as she thought what would happen if she was caught. All of the evidence against her was soaked in her shirt and in the upholstery of her car or lying dead in an alley.

Images of prison were replaced by the memories of the two males' corpses, motionless and bleeding out. The life cut from them from Delilah's own hands. Her fear dissipated as the euphoria from the kill returned to her. She felt the earrings in her pocked and suddenly found a new kind of confidence. She remembered how strong she felt when she defended herself.

She took a deep breath and calmed down. She looked to the door that led to the kitchen from the garage. It seemed like an impossible journey that would lead to her capture but she knew she couldn't stay in her car forever.

She opened the car door and stepped out. Under the florescent light of the garage the blood stood out almost black against her clothes; they were so saturated by the quickly drying liquid. Delilah looked to the driver's seat and saw that there were spots of blood staining the soft cloth interior.

Val was looking vacantly out of the window, staring at Delilah's workshop bench. Delilah didn't know why the garage even had a work bench. Her father never used the thing and as far as she was aware he wouldn't stoop to fixing anything himself. He always said why waste the time when he could pay someone to do it for him. There wasn't anything particularly intriguing about the tools or the bench.

Delilah realized that Val wasn't really looking at anything, her friend's stare vacant. She got the impression that while Val's eyes were open, the blonde girl wasn't seeing anything. Delilah felt very angry and sad for her friend. She knew that something had broken in Val and she could only hope that her friend could be fixed. She didn't contemplate the night's events long because she knew she had to clean them both up. She gently took Val out of the car and like a zombie Val let herself be led into the house.

Delilah thought the car should be safe for the time being. Her father probably wouldn't be home till the afternoon the next day. Her mother barely drove anymore, preferring to stay in the house and pop pill after pill. She looked at the car from the outside and she thought that it definitely would be ok; the blood stains were not visible unless staring directly at the seat with the door open. She planned to clean the seats later but first she had to take care of Val and her own clothes.

Carefully, Delilah opened the kitchen door as quietly as she could. The lights were off and the only sound she could hear were the late night infomercials on the TV. Her heart pounded in her chest and in her ears; she could only hope her mother was in a drug induced sleep by this time. She softly walked across the kitchen and prayed to whatever deity that would hear her that no one would notice her and her friend covered in blood. The biggest obstacle was getting to the stairs that led to the second floor. They had a very modern open floor plan and it was the first time that Delilah hated her house. She wished she had an old fashioned farm house where every room was separated and gave plenty of cover.

Val wasn't paying attention and didn't make a noise. Delilah was at least thankful her friend was not in hysterics and drawing attention to themselves. She left Val in the kitchen and her catatonic friend didn't make any motion. Val stood there as lifeless as she was in the car and it gave Delilah a chance to check if the coast was clear.

She saw that the living room was lit with a soft white blue glow from the television. Delilah couldn't tell what was on, the program dulling into white noise as she focused solely on getting upstairs without being noticed.

All the breath she didn't realize she was holding in was released and Delilah was so relieved that she could almost cry. Her mother was passed out on the couch with a bottle of Xanax and wine sitting on the coffee table. She checked her mother's breathing to make sure the woman was alive. The last thing Delilah needed was to call the ambulance for her mother before she got the chance to clean up.

Delilah's mother was in a drug induced blissful sleep, totally unaware of the world going on around her.

Delilah was able to breathe normally and smiled because she was confident that things were going to be ok.

She got Val and they both rushed to her room and she locked the door. She felt safe and that's what mattered to her.

Her pretty pink bedroom was her safe haven and she felt that nothing could touch her there. The outside world couldn't get to her and she had nothing to fear. She had a plan and she was sure that everything would be alright. She knew what she had to do and she was going to make sure that the night would be nothing more than a distant memory. She was determined to ignore the little voice that told her nothing could make her forget that night.

Delilah led Val to her private bathroom to wash up. Val was filthy from the grime of the alleyway and struggles. Upon seeing the shower, Val woke up from her stupor and urgently started to disrobe. It seemed the girl was eager to take a shower and Delilah quietly left her friend to clean up.

Delilah made her way down the hall to her parent's master bedroom. She needed to shower as well and she thought she'd have better luck getting clean in the bigger bathroom; it was also where all the good cleaning supplies were stored. Despite being in a daze most of the time, when Mrs. Morgan wasn't blitzed out she was scrubbing her bathroom till it shined.

The immaculate bathroom was so stark white that it almost hurt Delilah's eyes. She decided to wash her hands first as they were the bloodiest part of her. She turned on the water till it was a comfortable temperature and ran her hands under it. It was amazing how easily blood came off in warm water and regular hand soap. The crimson liquid circled the drain and Delilah was mesmerized by the sight of it. It seemed that all her night's activity and the horror that went along with it ran down the drain.

She vaguely remembered something from English class. Something about some chick who washed her hands while sleep walking and saying "Out damned spot." Delilah knew it had something to do with feeling guilty about killing someone and they couldn't wash the proverbial "blood" off their hands. To Delilah, washing the blood off seemed very easy and in no way stress inducing. In fact, she was very glad to get the blood off her hands and didn't know what the big deal was. The two guys deserved what she did to them and she'd happily do it again. She wasn't dumb enough to give herself a parade about it but it was something that she didn't feel an ounce of regret for. Her biggest fear was getting caught and the evidence was washing away. She just needed to do that with the rest of herself.

Delilah studied her hands, not sure what she was looking for; some kind of residue or proof that blood was still there. But she didn't find anything out of the ordinary; they were the same clean tan hands that she had before she left the house for the boardwalk. Nothing on them suggested she brutally stabbed two people and left them for dead in an alleyway of the abandoned part of a beach town boardwalk. She looked at the mirror and studied her own reflection.

She was grimy and she was lucky that her clothes took the brunt of the filth. Her olive complexion was marred by the spray pattern of her victims' blood. It had dried and turned brown but she could easily clean that as well. Her hair was a mess from the fight and she knew she'd have a hell of a time getting the knots out but again, it was something that could easily be fixed. Everything else about her was the same; same brown eyes, ordinary eyes. She certainly did not have the eyes of a killer. No matter how long she stared at her own reflection, it was basically the same one that left her house that night. All she needed to do was clean up and no one would be the wiser.

She undressed and was careful to fold her clothes in such a way where the blood wouldn't touch the white tile. Delilah felt there was no need to make more of a mess for her to clean later.

The soothing shower was warm enough to have steam billowing throughout the bathroom. It wasn't blistering but she did like long hot showers. She felt like the whole night's stress was washing away along with the dirt and blood. Like with the sink, the blood cascaded off her body and down the drain; never to be seen again.

As she stood under the warm spray of the shower, she thought back to her childhood. Random thoughts invaded her mind where she was making connections of what happened that night to other memories. Sometimes memories jumped from one thing to another but she was specifically thinking of one particular incident. She remembered being picked on by the other children because she was different than her all white peers. Her mother was accounted as beautiful and perhaps she would be one day as well; but in the world of children it wasn't alright to be different and it definitely wasn't alright to bi-racial. She was told to ignore the other children because they were "jealous." Jealous of what, Delilah would never know but she did remember one incident where one boy, some ginger named Kevin, shoved her and told her to "Go back where she came from." She had taken enough of their crap and she finally snapped. She shoved back and there was an ensuing shoving match. Delilah held her own and when they got into trouble she recalled being berated far more than Kevin. For some reason it was a lot less acceptable for her to get into a fight than it was for him. He was just being a boy and she was out of line. Delilah was so angry that she cried tears of frustration. She couldn't wait till her parents got there because she was sure they would take her side. She was just defending herself, they couldn't be mad if she was defending herself.

Delilah thought wrong. Her parents were just as mad and disappointed as the teacher. At age eight, it seemed like the ultimate betrayal and she was hurt beyond anything she had ever experienced before. Almost ten years later she realized that it wasn't a big deal; her parents didn't want her fighting, what parent did? But somewhere beneath the surface she did know that there was a kind of injustice done to her; she knew she deserve to get chided for fighting but she also knew she shouldn't have been chided more than the boy for the simple fact that she was a girl.

Anger welled inside her as she thought about the likely outcome if she had been raped. She could see her father and other fully grown adults telling her she shouldn't have been where she was. She shouldn't have been dressed as she was. She shouldn't have been hanging out with Val. They would say all the ways it was her fault and not the males' fault for being raped. Females were to be the gatekeepers and always on guard when it came to their sexuality. Males couldn't help themselves so whatever they did it had to have been caused by a woman. It wasn't fair and it wasn't right. Delilah knew that and that night she fought back. It was the males' fault, they deserved all that came to them and she would never be sorry.

She got out of the shower and started to dry off. She whipped the steamed up bathroom mirror and took one last look at herself.

She was clean. She had washed her hair and her body; just like with her hands all traces of her crime was gone. She was a normal teen again, at least on the outside. She couldn't see any difference on her skin but she knew one was there. A hidden power within her had been unleashed and she wasn't sure what she should do with it. It was going on three in the morning so she didn't take the time to contemplate her unseen changes. She had to decide what to do with her clothes.

The dried blood on the preppy clothes looked foreign and unnatural. In all the movies, blood splatter was reserved for the bad guy in black or dirty overalls. The only time blood got on light colored clothes was when a victim was wearing them. The killer in horror movies always went after the clean cut kids who went astray. Perhaps that's what was supposed to happen to her, she thought derisively; if it was any other girl her age and from her background, Delilah would have been the victim. Like in the movies she had been doing drugs, drinking, and hanging out with shady males she didn't know. It was the perfect set up to be raped and probably killed by those meat heads, her body lying in an alleyway broken and bleeding; all because she didn't listen to her parents or teachers about staying away from bad things. Bad things happened to people who did bad things. She was certain she would have been told it was her own fault because she didn't stay where she was supposed to; didn't do what she was supposed to; her childhood memory coming back in full swing. But it was not the way it happened, she turned the tables and refused to be raped. She refused to be the victim. In turn she became the killer, the hunter and it was the most exhilarating and liberating feeling she ever had. Ever since she could remember she was told to be quiet and meek. That the most she would ever do in life was become a timid housewife, a socialite. If she was lucky or motivated enough to go to college then she could possibly become a nurse. She always got the sense that whatever she chose in life, it would have to be something where she was in the background. Told to never raise her voice or defend herself physically.

On the outside she was the same but on the inside, she was a whole new girl. She went against the grain and felt like she could do anything.

Looking back at her bloodstained clothes she was brought back to reality. Life wasn't fair and she was certain that no matter what she said about self-defense she was going to be in trouble. She was female and she killed two people, no one would see past that. So while she smiled in victory, it had to be an unsung victory. The only people who could ever know was her and Val. She could trust Val because her friend had just as much to lose as her. If people wouldn't believe Delilah they'd believe Val even less. Delilah at least came from money; Val would just be another Santa Carla statistic in the local prison. She didn't want that for her friend and she was sure that Val didn't want that for her. They were best friends, they had to stick together. Delilah was confident that once Val snapped out of it she would be thankful for her friend's intervention.

Delilah debated with herself on the best course of action to deal with her clothes. It was a pink polo, a khaki skirt, white socks, and white Kicks; all bloodstained. They weren't her favorite and she had others just like them. She didn't think the blood would come out of the articles due to its saturation. Bleach was out of the question because it would ruin the skirt and the polo, it might have been possible to save the shoes. She couldn't just throw them away because she was paranoid some random garbage man would find them and then alert the authorities. She was just as paranoid about burying them in case some dog dug them up. She had to destroy them but wasn't sure how. The house had a fireplace but it was mostly for show because Buena Flores hardly ever got below seventy degrees and when it did they still didn't use fireplace. The last time Delilah could remember ever using the hearth was a random Christmas long ago and it was for ambiance. So burning the clothes in the fireplace would look odd at the very least and she didn't want anyone questioning her.

She frowned in frustration because something had to be done. Burning the clothes seemed to be the best option, it destroyed the evidence and it wouldn't be around but where could she do it?

Like lightening, an idea crashed into her head and it seemed like the perfect solution. People would question her if she burned the clothes in the fireplace but they wouldn't if it was in the outdoor bar-b-q pit. It was the perfect plan.

"I'll wait till my dad is gone which shouldn't be too long since he's a workaholic, my mom will be blitzed out by four in the afternoon. I'll just fire up the bbq pit and then take out some of the leftover hamburgers from last month's bbq. People won't suspect anything because it's still summer. People bbq all the time around here."

She told the plan to herself over and over again. The more she said it out loud the better it seemed and she smiled at her ingenuity.

Delilah's good mood quickly dissipated as she entered her room and noticed the steam coming from the bathroom. Val had gone into the shower before her and she thought it was odd that her friend was still showering. The steam was a lot more intense and prolific as well so Delilah went in to check on Val.

"Val? Everything okay?" she called out, respecting Val's privacy.

There was no answer and Delilah made her way to the shower, no longer caring about the possible embarrassment of seeing her friend nude. With the night they had, they were a bit beyond being shy.

What she saw shocked Delilah; Val was sitting in the shower, looking dead eyed as ever but with a furious red flush all over her body. Delilah reached to her friend without thinking and shrunk back swiftly at the pain of the water. Val had turned the water on as high as it would go and it was scalding. She reached around and turned off the water and grabbed the nearest towel. She wrapped the soft cotton linen around her friend and the closeness seemed to hurt Val. Delilah didn't know if it was from her friend's over sensitized skin from the scalding water or Val didn't want anyone touching her.

Delilah pulled her hands back, trying to give Val the space she needed.

Val seemed frightened that Delilah was pulling away and grabbed for her friend. Delilah let herself be taken in by her sorrowful friend. She didn't care that all they were wearing were towels or that they were sitting in a wet walk in shower. Her friend needed her and she'd do anything to help.

So while Val finally broke down and cried about all that had happened to her, Delilah held her close and let her cry and hold onto her.

Tears burned in Delilah's eyes and she let them fall for the first time that night. It was an angry bitter truth she realized: They could wash all the blood and dirt off but what happened to Val would not be so easy to make go away. Delilah felt a sickness creep into her stomach as she let herself think of what happened to Val instead of what she did. Val was violated and made to feel dirty, Delilah empathized with her friend. She wouldn't know the exact feelings and she hoped she never would but she could imagine the feeling of violation. To have the core of her made dirty; to feel helpless and out of control. These were not good feelings and it hardened Delilah's heart against what she did. She felt like she did the right thing and her only regret would be that the males' agony didn't last longer. In retrospect, she wished she had cut their dicks off with her broken bottle.

Delilah held Val closer and pushed away morbid thoughts and revenge fantasies. It was no longer about her; Val needed all the support she could offer. Delilah would hold her friend as long as Val needed her.

The two friends stayed like that awhile but Val finally cried all the tears she could cry. She was beyond exhausted and just wanted to go to get some rest. The girls got dressed and Val promptly fell asleep on Delilah's bed.

Delilah stared at her sleeping friend and was glad for the peace that fell upon Val's features. She hoped the blonde girl would have peaceful dreams as well.

Delilah was tired as well but she had other things to do. She got out the bleach, other cleaning supplies, and went to work. She scrubbed down both bathrooms till the smell of ammonia permeated through the top floor. Delilah had to open some windows to air out the house but she wasn't afraid of it being unseemly. The neighborhood was still fast asleep and her mother would assume the clean smell was leftover from the last cleaning. Delilah then went downstairs with upholstery cleaner to attack her car. The sun had broken over the horizon when she was finally satisfied with the results.

Everything was cleaned and looked just like before, better even. No one would suspect a thing and they wouldn't be able to find anything. Val would never rat her out and she wasn't going to confess anytime soon. She was sure that there would be something in the paper about the two dead bodies in an alley, brutally stabbed to death but hoped it'd be brushed off as another unfortunate event in Santa Carla's long criminal history. If not then there was nothing to connect her to the killings. She was clean and so was everything else.

Despite being tired she went outside, the chilly air quickly warming up with the sun's rays, and enjoyed the sunrise. The pinks and blues of twilight were giving way to the bright vibrant orange of the rising sun. Delilah had never seen a sunrise so beautiful.

It was August 30th, 1986 and it was the new beginning of Delilah's life.

**A/N: Thanks to all those that reviewed! They are awesome, greatly appreciated, and feed the muse. Hope you enjoyed this chapter as well. **

**A shout out to: stuckXrunningXupXthatXhill, LauRa-ReaDinG-XoX, demonchild2004, Emzy2k11, and Nikel's lover. You guys rock!**


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